HK1217
by Kahuna Burger
Summary: A selection of non-sequential glimpses into the lives of Agent Harris and his HK unit. Initiative AU. Warning : lemon, slave fic.
1. HK1217

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Warning : While not violent or overtly non-consensual, this is a slave fic, which means all events happen within an intrinsically non-con setting. Also, porn.**

Xander just wanted to get back to his office and fill out the paperwork for the night's retrievals. This was the bad part, the annoyance after a good patrol, and he had tried in the past leaving it till the beginning of his next shift so he could just go straight to a hot shower and either blissful rest or a romp with the leftover buzz depending on how hard the fights had been. But he would forget details overnight, and his reports weren't as comprehensive and the white coats complained... so paperwork after patrol, even though it ruined the flow.

He nodded to people as he navigated the halls, white coats, some brass, teams on their way out for their own patrols. His team would do separate reports in their rooms or the common areas; a lot of teams collaborated, but he didn't allow that and as a result he knew the white coats got a better overall picture by looking at all the individual perspectives. So he walked alone, except for his constant shadow, the lithe form in all black with "HK1217" printed neatly on its chest and back. Most handlers walked their HKs in front of them, one hand on their belt to be near the control box, or even leashed them. It just seemed silly to Xander. Why depend on the units in the field but stand paranoid in the base?

Then again, the way some handlers treated their HKs, maybe they should be paranoid all the time.

He smiled at a white coat who was leading a group of handlers in training on a tour. They all had the black patch on their uniforms but no number to identify a unit they had been paired with. Last leg of training, then. The trainees jostled by in a rowdy bunch, the tour must be finishing up, and he almost missed the gasp and thump from behind him. But after so long together he knew exactly when his shadow fell out of place, and he spun around to see the pale face gone fanged and grimacing in pain as the unit shook and tried to stand again.

"Wow, like a ton of bricks," one of the departing soldiers sniggered, and a couple glanced back to see the results. For a moment, Xander seriously considered going after them and working off some leftover adrenalin from the patrol, but he settled for getting a good look at their faces before they turned quickly away from his scowl.

He knelt and gently slipped his arm around a slim waist. "Hey Kitty, we're almost to the office, let's get out of the lights and noise, huh?" He half carried the trembling form through the doorway and settled them on the carpeted floor without turning on the light.

"There we go, I'm sorry, trainees can be such little assholes..." He kneaded carefully at the tight muscles of its neck and shoulders while peppering soft kisses across the now smooth brow. "Shhhh, there's my sweet Kitty, I'm gonna talk to Dr Engleman tomorrow about turning down the power on that fucking thing, maybe I'll tell him there was an accidental trigger on patrol and I almost got hurt while you were down... but that would show on the rest of the team's reports, I'd have to put it off till the day after so I could get them to include it..."

He pulled back from murmuring into the soft golden hair to see surprised blue eyes under an inquisitively raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm a bad, bad boy lying to get what I want, what of it?" He kissed the raised brow right on that scar he always wondered about and pulled the now relaxed body into a position straddling his lap. "It's not like I've ever actually seen you trigger the thing except by accident, and I don't like seeing you in pain for no good reason. Well, I don't like seeing you in pain period, but battle wounds aren't as bad as you collapsing cause some jerk wasn't watching where he was going, or worse **was** and thinks the chip is funny."

His hands slipped under the tight black shirt almost of their own accord and began to trace hard, defined muscles. "Gotta do what it takes to protect my Kitty, right?" He felt the subtle shift as the unit leaned into the caress even as it gave him a skeptical glance that seemed to look over non-existent glasses. "That's right, I said **my** Kitty, you wanna make something of it?" He slipped the shirt off and bit gently on a perfect, delicate seeming collarbone, then harder on the neck and knew as he heard a soft contented rumble that blue eyes had briefly flashed gold.

"You may be officially property of the U.S. government, but in the ways that matter, you're mine, and I'm gonna make sure those little shits who knocked into you know it too." And he would - most of the other handlers thought he was nuts for the protective streak he had concerning his unit, but the performance he got in the field excused the eccentricity. "Would you like that, seeing me fight for you?" He began teasing irresistible pink nipples and the pleased smile dissolved into a silent whimper.

Xander laughed softly as the HK scooted back onto his thighs and began opening his pants, its cool hands freeing his already hard length. "Not as impressive a sight as you fighting, I'll admit." He lifted the unit slightly by the waist and enjoyed the smooth and flexible efficiency with which the tight black pants were removed. "You were beautiful tonight, Kitty. Sometimes I wish I could just sit back and watch you instead of coordinating the team and doing my part. You move like you're dancing, so much power and control." He worried at the delicate shell of an ear as his hands dropped down to cup a perfect ass and investigate its entrance.

"Mmmmm, still slick... Do you want to turn around, might be more comfortable?" He knew the answer before the quick head shake and lifted the unit slightly to position them. Kitty needed it this way after the chip had been activated, though not after injuries it sustained in fights. Needed to be surrounded and supported by him, arms around its shoulders, knees behind its back. Needed to look in his face or bury its head in his shoulder taking deep breaths to draw in scent rather than oxygen. Xander thought it needed to remind itself that he wasn't one of its prior handlers, that he wouldn't use his control box for trivial indiscretions or worse for his own amusement.

As he slipped slowly into the cool tight place he loved to be he whispered, "I've got you, Kitty. Not giving you up, not letting you or anyone else forget who you belong to." He was reassuring, but he was also sincere. He couldn't understand how some handlers could loan _(pimp) _their units out to fellow soldiers or white coats. It was bad enough knowing that some of Kitty's other handlers had retired rather than dying in the field and there were people out there who had touched his property in the past.

He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on gently lifting and lowering the unit as he flexed his hips. It whimpered and tightened its own grip slightly each time he slid in and he knew they'd lucked onto a good angle this time. "Is my pretty Kitty gonna come for me? Better think of some way to catch it if you want to, I'm not walking back to our bunk with a stained shirt..." He tried for teasing, but the feel of a perfect body trembling with pleasure and need this time instead of echoes of pain was breaking him apart and he tightened his hold as their speed increased.

"Come on, Kitty, come for Xander," he gasped out as he felt his own orgasm building. "I got you, I've **got** you and I'm not. Letting. You. Go!" The last was grunted out as he felt the cool channel spasm, milking out long pulses from him. He dropped his head down to nuzzle golden curls and just breathed for a moment before groaning out loud. "And I still have to do the paperwork!"

There was a stutter of breath like a silent chuckle as the HK rolled off of him and licked its hand clean of the spunk it had loyally protected his shirt from. Then, with a ridiculously contented smile, it gave an exaggerated full body stretch - a kitty stretch, with knuckles and toes on the floor and back arched - and curled up on its discarded clothes to nap while it waited.

"Brat," Xander muttered with no malice. He stripped off his jacket and lay it over the quiet figure, knowing his scent and residual heat would be welcome. He placed a gentle kiss on Kitty's cool temple and settled behind his desk with a smile of his own. "My brat."

**A/N : This fic is being marked Complete because while other chapters may be added (especially if I get nice reviews), they would be unconnected and non consecutive snapshots in the life of Agent Xander and his Kitty, with any overall plot only emerging by inference.**


	2. Lazy Tuesday

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Warning : No porn. Sorry.**

Tuesday evenings were nice. No patrol, no briefings, and Xander never scheduled a medical evaluation then unless an injury follow-up left him no choice. Tuesdays were his day off, and he liked to spend them just like this, lying in bed, a comic to read, snacks on hand and a contented Kitty curled down by his feet. It was a little tight in the bunk, but at least it was the extra long style, and he never minded being close to his unit anyway.

With that thought he glanced down to see Kitty bouncing a quarter across its knuckles with a look of concentration. It was a good look, sometimes the tip of its pink tongue would stick out of the corner of its mouth and Xander just wanted to pounce on the adorable. But that would disrupt its practice and the unit would probably pout. And he couldn't withstand a Kitty-pout, it just wasn't possible.

"That's not bad, where did you pick it up?" He watched the coin flip and spin with interest. It was a good little show, like a magician might do before making the quarter disappear then pulling it from behind the birthday boy's ear. Xander had never been that birthday boy, but Jesse was one year.

He switched his attention to Kitty's face, hoping it would give him a clue. He didn't know much about its former handlers, had one taught it a silly bit of fun like this? The unit cocked its head and then placed the other hand over the left side of its chest and tapped a rhythm. _Pat-pat, pat-pat, pat-pat_. Xander raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You learned that when you were alive?" A nod and slightly embarrassed smile as Kitty tipped an imaginary hat and then tossed its head with a silent giggle. He laughed out loud. "Well, why do we work on any talents except to impress girls? I've never seen you do that before, what brought this on?"

It leaned forward and tapped the graphic novel lying open on the pillow, then its own head. Xander looked down at the WWII scene in surprise. "You were alive during the war?" Kitty shook its head and spun its hand in a backwards circle, but then tapped the page and its head again. "Oh you were turned before then, but you still remember that time. Were you in Europe?"

The unit nodded and pointed to a picture of one of the cats dressed in uniform, while exaggeratedly licking its lips. "You did not!" Kitty gave the impression of wounded dignity and nodded stubbornly. "Seriously? Why?" He expected a 'duh' look and another lick of the lips, but instead a pale finger tapped lower on the body in the picture. Xander tried to puzzle it out. "The uniform, you mean _because_ he was a Nazi?" The unit shook its head and traced down the long overcoat the figure was wearing, then threw back its shoulders and cocked its head arrogantly.

Xander burst into laughter. "You ate a Nazi for his coat?" Now he got the 'duh' look and a further tilt of its head. "Okay, yeah, you probably looked good in it, I'll give you that." He gazed at his Kitty's lean figure and smiled. "Actually that sort of coat really would suit you, maybe I should get you one to wear when we're off base." He laughed again when the unit sat up eagerly, coin tricks forgotten, and gave him an imploring look. "You'd really like that, huh? Well, you be a good kitty this week and we'll do a little shopping when I get my pay, I didn't have anything in mind for my splurge budget yet anyway."

A mischievous smirk crept onto the unit's face and it began to crawl up Xander's body. "Nuh uh!" He laughed as he sat up and expertly deflected wandering hands, "You can be **that** kind of good kitty later. I still want to hear about why Nazis remind you of the coin trick. So you were in Europe... Germany itself?" Kitty shook its head, then shrugged and waved its hand forward. "Germany after this part of the story. Um, France, Poland?" He was distracted by pretty pink lips pursing together, but it was only to whistle My Country Tis of Thee. "Huh, you said you were- oh, England! Okay, you were in England during the war," a touch on the side of its neck, "with your Sire."

The unit mimed something falling then an explosion. "You two were there during the Blitz? Wow. It must have been scary." Kitty nodded, and stroked its throat again before twirling a finger at its temple. "And it was making her crazy, huh?" A lifted eyebrow and quick smirk brought a laugh as Xander as he remembered some of the other stories his unit had 'told' about its Sire. "Crazier than usual, then?"

There was sad affection in the smile that accompanied a nod, then it made a petting motion, jabbered noiselessly and began doing the coin trick again. "Yeah, anything to keep her calmed down, I've been there. Dunno if she was much of a Sire, it seems like you were the one taking care of her in a lot of your... Hey, don't be like that!"

Kitty had pulled away and was sitting at the foot of the bed again, in the 'unused military equipment' pose that it had always taken when not following a direct order back when he had first been assigned as its handler. "Cut it out, you brat." He yanked the stiff form into his arms and firmly kissed its forehead. "I'm sure she was a great Sire to make a demon like you," he whispered into its neck as he overtly nuzzled and sniffed the cool, pale skin. "If she wasn't, I wouldn't have such a strong and beautiful Kitty... Who. Is. All. Mine." He bit hard at the back of its neck, holding tight until the display of possession and dominance relaxed the unit into his lap as it always did.

Xander soothed over the bite marks with his tongue while he silently counted the seconds they took to heal, satisfying himself that the unit was feeding well enough. Then he pushed the comic off the bed and repositioned them so he could lie comfortably with his Kitty on his chest, stroking its back and running his fingers through hair that was getting just long enough to curl. "Hmmm, this is starting to get cute, wonder how long I can get away with growing it out?" A low warning growl earned only a poke to the ribs. "I'll call you cute if I want to. Also gorgeous, handsome, pretty or dead sexy, depending on the moment."

The growl shifted to a sound that could be described as a purr only at the risk of great pouting, and Xander smiled as he settled in for a nap. "I don't mind that you still love her," he said sleepily, and while surprised blue eyes met his, the not-purr didn't stop. "I know I'm a possessive bastard, but you don't forget someone that important to you, and, well, I really wouldn't have you without her, would I?"

Kitty gave a slight shrug of agreement and rubbed its face affectionately against his chest. He felt what was probably a truly dopey smile begin and kissed the unit gently on the head. "Go to sleep, Kitty, we'll have dinner after a nap and then..." he yawned and mumbled the rest into its hair as he drifted off, "...you can start earning that coat, huh?" The purr got a little louder as they snuggled in close and rested.

**A/N : The comic Xander is reading is Maus, by Art Spiegelman. It's very good.**

**A/N2 : My Country Tis Of Thee is sung to the same tune as God Save The King/Queen.**


	3. Broken

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

Xander had been facing death since he was 15 and he had wondered more than once if it would be better to see it coming or not. Tonight was a 'see it coming' night, and he wasn't fond. Maybe if he saw it coming because he was boldly leaping into danger to protect someone (and hey, he'd had some chances at a Blaze Of Glory, They'd Say Awesome Things At The Funeral ending) that would be one thing, but just getting to his feet after being knocked down and seeing Big Ugly launch some sort of totally gross bone spears at him with no chance to move? Kinda sucked.

As it happened, though, when you see death coming, it means you're not looking at your rescue. He felt something slam into him from the side, heard the disturbingly familiar sound of solid objects tearing into flesh, and rolled over to see Kitty's face contorted in pain as the unit spasmed beside him.

For the record (and there _was_ a record as of all official patrols) Xander did **not** 'snap'. He did react rather quickly, and it's possible that moving into hand to hand range in order to empty his revolver into the eye slit in the creature's exoskeleton was a little more... _hands on _than usual Initiative trained tactics, but that doesn't mean he 'snapped'. And there's nothing wrong with a little strong language while eliminating a hostile.

When the Ugly was down and the team had all called out their conditions, he flung himself beside his HK and tried to assess the damage. The spasms had faded, but it still trembled badly like after the... Then he remembered the impact as Kitty had knocked him aside. "Fuck, I hate that chip. Listen, I have to get these spears out of you so you can heal. It might hurt more, just hang on."

As his team bagged the hostile and cleaned up the area, he drew the bony weapons as gently as he could from the unit's body, murmuring praise and comfort the entire time. When Richards, the team medic, made his way to their side, Xander only said, "You got the blood?"

"You're cut, sir, if you could-"

"Yeah but the brass freaks if I feed it my own, so do you have the blood or not?"

Trying not to sigh loudly enough for for it to be considered insubordination, Richards gave up trying to check on his commander's scalp and reached for the two blood bags that he had found space for in his gear after HK1217 suffered its first major injury with their team. It was O neg, rotated daily and the coil of transfusion tubing granted some plausible deniability, but he'd rather admit that he was prepared to feed an injured vamp than ever again have to fudge an injury report to make "Lt Harris sliced his own arm deep enough to need stitches when his Hunter/Killer got hurt" into something less likely to get his commander on mental health leave.

Harris might be younger than him and granted his commission based on 'special skills of value to the Initiative' but he was the best team leader Richards had worked with before or after he joined the monster hunting squads. And if he treated his HK unit closer to the way a K-9 officer dealt with his dog than a com tech saw his gear, well... he kept them all alive and they had a kill/capture rate that gave them bragging rights with anyone whose clearance allowed bragging.

Xander ignored the sigh and took the first bag, stabbing through the IV port with the bone spear he had just removed and holding it to the HK's mouth. "There you go, sweet Kitty, you're gonna be fine..." He wondered a bit at the way it wouldn't meet his eyes, usually his unit would be staring at him as he doctored it. But the wounds were closing and he turned his attention to his duties as he held the second bag.

"Walsh, you and Jackson get Big Ugly to the white coats and if your Aunt Maggie asks why we didn't take it alive, tell her to wait and read the reports. Davidson, you're to check in for a complete workup, and no I don't care that there was no intel on this thing being poisonous, there was no intel on it being immune to electricity either." He gathered Kitty up in his arms and headed for the jeep. "Richards, stop fussing, the scratch was from a tree I hit and I'm not concussed, trust me I know what that feels like. I want descriptions of the hostile's tactics and downloads of any good shots of it from the helmet cams in the system before we go off duty tonight, full reports at the start of tomorrow's shift."

* * *

><p>He skipped his office - he could do the basics from his room after he was sure Kitty was okay. The wounds had closed by the time they got back to base, but the unit was very still, not meeting his eyes and seemed almost afraid.<p>

When they got into the room, things hadn't changed, and he sat them on the bed and spoke quietly. "What's wrong, Kitty? Did those spears have something on them or do you need more blood?" The unit shook its head, still lowering its eyes. "You're scaring me a little, here. Is it because of the chip triggering, I'm so sorry you had to deal with that on top of the injuries, I mean you were **saving** me and-"

The HK shuddered hard and held up its hands, twisting them apart and down. "I don't understand, Kitty." It reached over to his bedside table and took a pencil then snapped it in half. "You broke something?" It shook it's head, snapped the pieces again and pointed from itself to the pile. "You're broken?" He caught its chin in his fingers and turned the unit to face at him, seeing both pain and shame in expressive blue eyes even as it tried to look away.

Xander's mind raced. Kitty wasn't physically hurt, but something about the fight had upset it worse than he had ever seen. It hadn't taken down the Ugly personally, but Xander had been proud of its performance and was planning a thorough reward considering it put itself between him and...

_"Vamp units can take a lot of damage, and 1217 here has a reputation for being practically indestructible, but never count on it as a shield. We've lost more than one handler because an HK dodged when he expected it to stand and fight and the hostile barreled right into him."_

Remembering the words of his trainer when he was being paired up, it all clicked together. "Oh, Kitty... You're upset because you saved me." The unit turned away but he just pulled it into his arms and stroked its back and arms while whispering into its hair. "No, Kitty, you aren't broken, never broken, you're the strongest vampire I've ever seen..." He picked it up and walked to the shower. "Let's get you cleaned up, huh?" He stripped off the shreds of the black jumpsuit and began washing off the blood and dirt from the fight. "Nuh uh," he batted away Kitty's hands when it tried to undress him as well. "Let Xander take care of you tonight. Someone deserves a hero's reward, hmm?"

He rinsed the unit and toweled it gently dry, touching every bit of skin, and kissing or nipping a few particularly tempting areas. Then he carried it back and set it on the bunk with a kiss to the tip of its nose. "You sit right here a minute, okay?" He returned after a quick shower of his own, throwing on a pair of clean boxers before sitting beside Kitty and running his hands over the pale expanse of skin before him.

"Tell me something, Kitty." He began circling its pink nipples with his fingertips, lightly scratching one or the other occasionally. "If those spears had been heading for Richards or Walsh tonight, would you have done anything but used the opportunity to hit the Ugly?" He caught those pretty blue eyes with his own and wouldn't look away until it shook its head slightly no. "That's right, you wouldn't."

The nipples had begun to pebble up and he started pinching and rolling them between his fingers and thumbs, not bothering to hide his smile as the unit needlessly panted and arched its back slightly. "And if I had been crazy enough to let your old handler Finn take you out tonight to 'keep his hand in with the fieldwork', would you have saved his life?" This time the head shake was emphatic, and Xander rewarded it by leaning down to lick and suck one of the hardened nubs. "That's right," he said around his treat, nipping lightly before sitting up again. "He was lucky I didn't deck him for just looking at you like he did. You aren't his, you never were, not like you're mine."

He slipped a hand down its belly, tracing the hard lines of muscle to bypass the unit's erection and pet its thighs and balls. "Now I want you to really think, Kitty and be honest with yourself and me, okay?" He began to slowly feather touches on its length, not even hard enough to move its foreskin against the shaft. "If I get reassigned tomorrow, or killed or hurt too badly to keep doing fieldwork, and the brass tries to assign you a new handler and tell you that you're his now, are you going to treat him like you do me?"

He kept his eyes pinned on the unit's and in spite of the confidence he was handling its body with, he held his breath a moment waiting for it to respond. Kitty shook its head the tiniest bit, and ran a hand over its long stilled heart, then the neck scar from its turning before placing its fingertips in the center of Xander's chest. Tears pricked in his eyes as he moved forward on the bunk, covering its body with his own and peppering kisses over its face and neck.

"That's right. You aren't broken, Kitty, you're **mine**. My strong, brave, _loyal_ Kitty, and no one else's." He let the unit remove his boxers this time and reveled in the feeling of cool, strong hands clinging to him as he pumped their arousals together. "I'll tell you something else, too. There might have been a way to take that hostile captive like the white coats wanted, but I didn't even take time to think about it. That ugly motherfucker hurt you and it was gonna die."

Kitty pulled its head back and looked at him with eyes gone gold around the edges as a low growl started from its chest. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, but there's no way I could just be assigned another HK. You're mine, but I'm your's too, Kitty." He might have said more, but there were cool lips covering his and a clever tongue mapping his mouth and he just gripped a hip hard enough that he'd be worried about hurting a human and ground down on the cool, familiar form as they both came.

Afterwards, he made the unit stay in bed while he cleaned them up. "Rewarding my hero, remember?" And if his report didn't even get started until the next morning, the white coats could deal. He had a Kitty to pet, kiss and love until it lost any trace of shame at facing how fully it belonged to him.


	4. First contact

**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Warning : implied non con and violence. **

Spike walked down the bland white hallways, to the left and just ahead of his current 'handler', leash pulling tight at his throat. Seriously, a leash? As if the bit of leather around his neck was doing anything to control him compared to the button on the handle that would trigger his implant. But it was an affectation that was catching on. At least the wankers didn't want him to crawl to go along with it.

A slight tug as they reached an intersecting corridor, so they were turning right. Like he couldn't have figured that out after going this route the first hundred times. Or just followed the asshole. No, he had to tug him along like a fucking puppy still learning to heel instead of a master-

"Vampire! Um, that's a vampire. Here. In the hallway. Not in a cell." Spike stopped when his handler did (and did not need the yank on his neck and 'halt' command to do so, ta muchly, prick) and caught a glance of shock, youth and brown hair and eyes before lowering his gaze as this handler preferred. "Definitely a vampire..."

What gave it away, pup, the unit jumpsuit or the fangs and bumps? The kid smelled nervous, but something about his body language seemed ready rather than panicked. His fingers were grasping as if wanting to reach for a weapon, and his stance had changed to 'might need to dodge' rather than 'really want to flee'. Interesting.

The Colonel who was with the kid just laughed. "Ah, Finn, this is Alexander Harris, he's considering joining the Initiative. Mr Harris, Lt Riley Finn." Huh, not Dr Harris and no rank given. And the kid was young, too. This was something different in new recruits.

"Um yeah and the... vampire?"

"Well, not exactly, Mr Harris, what we have here is an HK unit. While it was originally a Hostile, it has been trained and conditioned into an effective tracker and combatant at our command."

Yeah, trained and conditioned, you just keep telling yourself that. Try 'restrained every moment of the day and threatened into each individual action' instead. Take this implant out and see how well the training holds up why don't you?

"Oh, um... HK unit huh? Guessing that doesn't stand for Hello Kitty."

Spike couldn't help it, he snorted in amusement as he looked up to see brown eyes carefully watching him, even as teeth were flashed in a goofy smile. Then he gave a silent gasp when the half strength 'warning' jolt of pain tore through him and quickly lowered his gaze to his handler's bark of "Eyes down, 1217!"

Completely ignoring the byplay, the Colonel laughed again. "Hunter-Killer, actually. Finn uses the unit among other weapons in his team's patrols of the Cleveland area."

"Uh, what just happened there?" All playfulness had fled the kid's voice, and the wariness was stronger than ever.

Finn grinned and responded before the older man could. "All the vampire units are implanted with a behavioral modification chip that administers a shock directly to the pain centers of the brain when activated." The wanker was excited to explain, of course. Spike had heard him talk about his psychology studies in college enough to know that tone. "It triggers automatically under certain circumstances, most importantly for any pain inflicted on a human being. But I can also use it at a variety of settings for training."

Yeah, training, just keep telling yourself that, fucker. Christ, now he was pulling the remote off his belt. "The leash connection isn't necessary, I use this in the field. Would you like to try it?"

"Uh... Wouldn't that throw off the training, to give corrections without him having done anything?" Hmm, smarter than he looks to think of that, but naive enough to think it would matter to Finn.

"Well, never hurts just to remind it that humans are in charge around here." But he put the remote back. "So what capacity are you applying in?"

The Colonel stepped back into the conversation. "Mr Harris would be commissioned as a field agent, possibly going straight to Handler training considering his background."

And the 'different' just kept coming, didn't it? Agents were usually recruited from combat veterans, and handlers from among the field agents. What kind of experience made a civilian kid qualified to go straight to controlling one of the Initiative's slaves and leading a team?

"That sounds, um, exciting. If it's not classified, what sort of background are we talking about?"

"Maybe you could show Alexander the training facilities and he could fill you in on that himself. I have a few things that need to get done before the General goes off shift, but I'll meet you in the Mess around nine."

* * *

><p>By the time they got to the gym, it had come to light that Alexander, who went by Xander rather than Alex, had grown up on the California hellmouth, assisted a Slayer there for three years and could, in his words, 'test out of Basic because of being possessed by G.I. Joe one Halloween.'<p>

"A Slayer, wow." Finn started showing the boy some of the gear, but seemed preoccupied with his story. "I've heard of them but we never work together, the Initiative has this awkward relationship with the Watcher's Council."

"Yeah, that's what Giles said. He wasn't sure if his recommendation would actually help, but he ended up getting to know one guy when he was explaining the whole Mayor thing and that guy had a supervisor who thought my situation was interesting."

"Interesting is one way of putting it. I can see why they're willing to jump a few steps to get you in here."

After a few more minutes of looking at weapons, the boy jerked his head towards Spike. "So can I ask you a few questions about your, um, HK?"

"Of course!" Great, thanks for drawing his attention back to me, pup.

"Where did he originally come from?"

"It."

"Excuse me?"

"If you'll be working with a unit, you need to get in the habit. Just because they look a little more human than the other hostiles doesn't make vamps people. Anyway, most of the units were captured on patrol, a lot don't survive the implantation of the chip and some that do never seem to learn to respond to the corrections, just keep attacking until the pain knocks them out. This one has been with the Initiative for decades, I'm not actually sure where it was captured."

"Oh. Does he, uh it, ever go out of game face?"

"Game-? Oh, yeah." A light jolt from the chip drew Spike's attention - or at least he assumed that was the wanker's excuse. "Twelve Seventeen, human mask! It's definitely one of the advantages of vamps over the other types of hostiles that can be conditioned. I can take it around civilians if needed. Some handlers like to keep them in the human mask all the time, cause the real face is pretty damn ugly, but I don't allow mine to pretend to be anything it isn't. So, no mask unless I'm doing something I don't want fangs near."

Spike suppressed a flinch as Finn ran a finger from his cheekbone to the corner of his mouth and after a beat, he smelt the boy's unmistakable arousal - only to have it swamped a moment later by the stink of quickly swallowed bile. He wondered mildly if it was teenaged hyper masculinity or disgust at the idea of being serviced by a demon. He'd never seen either stop handlers or their friends from enjoying the perks of their position for long.

* * *

><p>The conversation went back to weapons and combat training until the small group entered the Mess to wait for the Colonel. "So, do they serve O positive here for the Hello Kitties?"<p>

Spike managed to restrain himself from a silent chuckle at the boy's chosen nickname. He had seen the ridiculously cheerful icon a couple of times and couldn't help an honest amusement at the connection with his military designation.

Finn, of course, gave an awkward sort of fake laugh, recognizing that it was supposed to be funny, but not quite getting it. "The units feed after patrols, usually on animal blood. They're only given human a few times a month, it seems taking it out of their diets entirely weakens them too much."

"Huh." The boy seemed to be filing this information away into holes in his prior experiences, and Spike wondered what dealings he had had with vamps besides staking them. "Guess h- it must look forward to that."

Wouldn't exactly say that, pup. Intellectually he knew he needed it, but...

"Well, I know I do. Human blood is one of the only forms of positive reinforcement these monsters can be offered, and the special feedings are a good opportunity to strengthen the conditioning of its place in the world."

Again the scent of rising gorge. "And what is that, exactly?" The tone was very carefully neutral, but the wanker didn't notice, of course. For a guy who claimed an expertise in psychology, his current handler was thick as a brick when it came to reading people.

"Property." The conversation so far had taken them through the lines and when they reached an empty table another harsh yank at the leash 'reminded' Spike that, as for the last five decades, he was expected to kneel while his handler sat. "It's an item of property, a thing, not a person, no matter that it can sometimes look like one. It can be a tool for tracking hostiles, a weapon in combat, or a toy for off hours, but we can never allow its prey luring behaviors to fool us into thinking of it as human."

The combination of arousal and disgust flared again at the mention of his 'toy' status. The kid was clearly struggling to hold his composure.

"I suppose that's why you don't allow it to talk either?"

"Hmmm? Oh, it's not a matter of allowing, all the units are muted immediately to prevent their speech mimicry."

"Mimicry?" The incredulity showed well enough that even the wanker might start to notice, but before any more could be said another tray was set on the table and the Colonel sat beside them.

"Lt Finn, Mr Harris. The trip to the gym and range went well?"

"Yes sir." The boy seemed delighted at the distraction. "You've got some wonderful facilities here and the weapons available are very impressive. It'd be nice not to have to steal a rocket launcher if I need one. ...er, that is..."

Finn looked shocked at the admission, but the Colonel just laughed heartily and clapped Xander on the back. "Now that's a story I'd love to hear sometime! But no, anything our agents need for their missions they just have to justify and sign for. No theft required."

"If you needed the firepower the military could provide, why didn't your Slayer just contact us and allow us into her territory?" The wanker was still stuck in righteous indignation mode. Perfectly moral bloke when he was dealing with humans. Then again, you could say similar of most gentlemen in history who had happily shagged their slaves.

The boy stiffened a little. "Buffy was dealing with some issues at the time and Giles was injured. The rest of us hadn't even heard of your group until G-Man had to smooth it over afterwards."

"And the report indicated that the incident was entirely justified," the Colonel put in firmly. "Say, Alexander, I see that you didn't pick up any dessert. They do a great chocolate cream pie."

"Chocolate? I didn't even notice a dessert station! I'll be right back."

Once the pup had scampered off, the older man's tone turned chilly. "Lieutenant, you do understand that we want Mr Harris in the Initiative?"

"With all due respect, sir, I don't understand why **we** would be courting** him**? This is an elite organization, we look for the best of the best and then give them a chance to try to make it in." Wanker. Though Spike supposed it was more surprising that someone in this conformity factory would recognize the boy's value than that Finn would ignore it.

"Yes, we recruit from the top performers in all branches, and we still have a wash out rate over 75%. But you aren't seeing why. The specialized combat we do is not exceptionally grueling, and we do not require the survival training of Special Forces. The vast majority of applicants don't cut it in the Initiative simply because they cannot handle the existence of the beings we deal with."

The wanker gave a slow nod. "You're saying that just by virtue of having already accepted the... unusual hostiles we deal with, Harris is almost guaranteed to become a field agent, so even if he requires extra training, we know it won't be wasted?"

The Colonel glanced over to make sure that Harris was still distracted by his dessert options. "Even moreso, our reviews of agent performance has shown for years that acceptance of the," he made a slight face, "_mystical_ aspects of the creatures we deal with is a survival trait, but that it rarely coincides with a suitability for teamwork in a military environment. In this young man we have both, and the General agrees with me that it's an opportunity we do not want to pass up."

The nod was even slower; unwilling. This was one who would deny the mystical entirely if he could, and when denial ran out insisted on using scientific sounding terms to describe what couldn't be hand waved as animals, infections or unusual technology. Even aliens would be a preferred explanation over the bogeyman. But they had reviews of agent performance so the same blinkered worldview said the Colonel must be right.

Finn's expression changed to a broad smile when the pup returned to the table bearing three different desserts. "Couldn't decide, huh?"

"No, I made the informed decision to pig out." The boy grinned back as he dug in.

"So, Xander, are you staying the night here at the base or heading out?"

"The Colonel said I could bunk here and finish my tour in the morning." He was looking between a last peice of cake and Spike like a guest considering feeding the host's dog from the table and not sure it's allowed in that household.

"Well, I've got a double room for the moment, if you want the spare." After a glance at his superior, the wanker gave a smile that was probably slimier than intended. "If you're going straight to Handler track, you should learn what the perks of the position are."

This time the smell of disgust came first as the pup looked at Finn, but he calmed as he looked down at Spike. His face and smell together told of compassion, curiosity and no small amount of attraction as he nodded but the grin he pasted on probably fooled the other two men when he faced them and said cheerfully, "Sure, sounds good... and maybe I can spend some, er, private time with the Kitty."

Spike was strangely okay with that idea and as Finn yanked him to his feet, he found himself wondering just how much 'different' this Xander was going to bring to the Initiative with him.


End file.
